Memoria ab Abnoba
by Zanzou
Summary: Tsuzuki asks for a day off, and hisoka "calls in sick".


Title: Memoria ab Abnoba

Author: Zanzou Youko

Pairing: TsuxHis

Genre: Flangst. 

Disclaimer: I WISH. *snort*

Notes: Birthday fic for Tsuzuki! ... even though it's not *about* his birthday. ^^; Thank you to Katsue for betaing!

~*~*~

Tsuzuki had asked for time off. He had asked for one day off, in the middle of the week, without explanation, and Konoe had agreed. It was such an odd request for the violet eyed man, and rumours had spread like wildfire. Tsuzuki had been quiet, unwilling to volunteer any information about his impromptu request. 

From the moment he had come from Konoe's office, he had been unusually subdued. Gone were his usual exuberant actions, only the faintest shadow of effort made to reassure his fellow employees that all was well, his eyes betraying him, nervous and darting.

The Gushoshin had locked themselves in the library, refusing to divulge any information. The entire office had seen Hisoka storm from there, Gushoshin the Younger floating helplessly in his wake, the very day Tsuzuki had made his request, frustrated worry leaking out from anger-dotted emerald eyes.

Tsuzuki had been seen speaking to Hisoka in hushed tones the next day on break, wringing his hands together in frustration, a sad, determined look on his face. Things had been tense between them since then, but not as strained as the first day.

Tatsumi brows drew together, arranging the papers on his desk as he got up for an early staff meeting. It would likely run smoothly, for once they would not need to worry about Tsuzuki disrupting it, bursting in a flury of apologies as he arrived late, partner in tow. 

Tatsumi was barely out the door, hand poised on the knob, when he heard the distinct trill of his telephone. Muttering a short curse, he went back hurriedly returned to his desk, scooping up the phone and calculating in his head the amount of time he would be able to speak before his absence was noted missing. Arriving early to meeting for decades had its downside, on occasion.

Bringing the phone to his ear with an annoyed flip, he winced as the motion, hands raising to adjust his glasses. "Tatsumi speaking," he intoned, adjusting the papers still held ready in his arms.

There was a quick, indrawn breath, before the voice on the other end of the line spoke: "Hisoka's sick. He's not going to be able to come into work today." Tatsumi's eyebrow rose, noting the oddity of Tsuzuki, of all people, calling in to let them know his partner would be late, especially as he himself had no reason to visit the blond in early mornings, other than their daily dash to the office.

Tatsumi's eyebrow as he mused over this statement, automatically responding, "Is Kurosaki-san alright? If he was unable to call himself, he might need--"

"That's fine, Tatsumi. I'll take care of him. He'll be better by tomorrow, I'm sure." 

Tatsumi smiled, the briefest light in his eyes as he understood. "Aah. Tell him I wish him good health. Thank you, Tsuzuki-san."

"No problem, Tatsumi. Goodbye." The blue eyed man could hear the pleased grin in his voice as the phone clicked dead in his hand. The secretary smiled fondly, musing on this development as he quickly made his way to the meeting.

Gold eyes met his in the hallway, an eyebrow raising casually at his 'tardiness', before glancing into the staff room and asking, "Where's Bon?"

Glasses glinting, he responded, voice mild, "He called in sick today." Leaving the other man blinking in the hall, he went through the doorway.

~*~*~

Things had been tense, at first; Tsuzuki had refused to justify his actions, only saying again and again that he would come in on the morning of his day off to explain. As time went on, Tsuzuki's subtle gestures toward him had bridged the gap, and as he had made a few of his own, the tense atmosphere had dissipated, fading into a sort of breathless waiting.

The brunet had appeared on his doorstep, hair mussed and eyes still murky with sleep. Hisoka let him in, tea still hot as Tsuzuki went into the kitchen and poured himself a cup, propped against the table. As the glazed look left the brunet's eyes, Hisoka leaned his small frame against the counter, arms crossed as he waited.

Tsuzuki stretched, back arching and he glanced at the blond through shuttered eyes. Taut muscles relaxed as he lowered his arms, gaze still boring into the younger shinigami. Emerald eyes met his, the silent question of the past few days shining clearly in his gaze. Amethyst eyes softened, tea cup carefully placed down as Tsuzuki pushed off from the table, coming to stand before his partner. His hand reached up and brushed a few strands of hair from Hisoka's forehead. He leaned in and spoke in a whisper across petal soft lips, "You should call in sick." 

Hisoka jerked back, eyes wide, a faint blush painting his cheeks at the unexpected touch, eyes sliding to the phone on the other side of the room. He paused, considering. "You should probably call in for me. I never got any practice at pretending to be sick."

This drew a quick, sad smile from the other shinigami. Hisoka watched Tsuzuki for a moment, before shaking his head and going into the front hall to grab both their coats. He stepped back into the kitchen just as Tsuzuki hung up the phone, a pleased smile flitting about the violet eyed man's face.

As Tsuzuki reached him, he smiled and grasped the other's arms. "I'll take us." 

The familiar feeling of teleportation over came him for the briefest of moments, and they were gone.

~*~*~

Their sudden appearance in the mortal world went unnoticed, Tsuzuki's feet touching down gently on the underbrush, yellow petals crushed beneath the sudden weight. Hisoka staggered from the sudden, mostly unexpected drop to the ground, leaning in to grip Tsuzuki's suit jacket. 

The branches of the trees swayed, the wind creating the a soft rustling back ground noise, the faint sounds of forest life making themselves heard in the pair's unexpected pause as they untangled themselves from each other. 

Stepping back, the violet eyed man turned and looked between the tree trunks, introspective as they casually grabbed the other's hand and started walking. The blond's fingers tightened briefly, then he allowed himself to be pulled forward.

The brunet slowed after a few moments, stepping into what some would call a meadow, but was almost completely bereft of life. The old scent of rot wafted out to dance around them, overpoweringly sweet. Hisoka nearly gagged, sleeve covered hand reaching up to cover his face. Green eyes darted to Tsuzuki's face, but he remained silent, waiting.

"This is the last place I ever saw her." 

Hisoka paused, waiting for a clarification. Tsuzuki continued, voice soft, "My sister. This is the last place I can remember seeing her." His eyes were dark with remembered pain, distant with memory. "There was a village, once, closer to the river.. but the people all moved away. It's said these woods are cursed." He chuckled, but it was a choked, stunted noise, forcing itself from his throat.

Hisoka breached the few steps separating them, hand hovering uncertainly over the other man's chest, before dropping down once again. He leaned forward, forehead pressing gently on his partner's sternum. "What happened here?" Eyes pressed shut, his shields wavered for a moment, and he knew even before Tsuzuki spoke.

"On one of our first cases.. Tatsumi had to stop me from doing something very foolish."

/_Blue eyes, dark with shock, demanding, "What are you DOING? They're innocent--"_

_"They destroyed her grave.. the only thing.. left.."_

_A brief flash of light, swallowed by shadow–_/

Hisoka blinked the scene from his eyes, arms curling up around the other, the urge to comfort nearly overpowering. "I think," he drew a breath, considering, "I think that it's the memory you keep, rather than the place. You don't need a place full of bad memories. You should.. remember her.. the good things. Before." Eyes flashed with shared pain, "Before things.. went wrong."

Tsuzuki was still, considering. "Ah." Not a realization, but merely a concession of what was probably truth. "You're probably right."

He returned the boy's embrace, ignoring the scent of death, as they held each other close.

_I.. I wanted.. to show you..._


End file.
